


I need some time off from that emotion (Time to pick my heart up off the floor)

by SquaresAreNotCircles



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: (or as close as I'll probably ever get to it), Angst, Danny Gives Good Hugs, Episode: s09e11 Hala I Ke Ala O'i'ole Mai (Gone on the Road from which There Is No Returning), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, but it's very much a Steve/Danny fic, could be read with serious (probably one-sided) Harry/Danny in mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 08:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17557160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SquaresAreNotCircles/pseuds/SquaresAreNotCircles
Summary: It’s like he watches it happen in slow motion: Harry bends down and down and curves towards Danny and the number of inches between their faces plummets even more rapidly than Steve’s blood pressure.Or: Harry has a new way of saying goodbye and Steve has a bit of a crisis. Yes, another one.





	I need some time off from that emotion (Time to pick my heart up off the floor)

**Author's Note:**

> In terms of finishing fic, this has been a _very_ productive week. Here’s one of my (only slightly) late 9.11 fics! The reception of that episode was all over the place and I admit I have some very mixed feelings about it myself, but one thing I really liked about it was that we got to see Harry Langford again, however briefly. One thing I did not like about it was that the other two major guest stars (Cath and Wade) got a real goodbye, but Harry didn’t, for some reason.
> 
> So – this is a missing scene coda fic for the end of 9.11, and it’s probably not exactly what H50 writers would have envisioned had they chosen to write this scene, but they didn’t write it, so now it’s mine. Evil laugh, mhuahaha, etcetera. (Sidenote, I swear this was intended as quick, silly, Steve-watches-Harry-kiss-Danny-goodbye fic, but I found that it was pretty hard to keep Steve angst out of a 9.11 coda, oh boy.)
> 
> The title comes from George Micheal’s _Faith_.

After Wade and Cath leave, it’s time to say goodbye to Harry. He’s flying a private jet, of course – no commercial flights for Britain’s finest, not even if they’re retired. “She’s nice,” Steve says, after giving the aircraft an appreciative once-over. He dredges up a smile from somewhere deep down. It shouldn’t be as hard as it is, but he’s dead on his feet.

Harry makes his answering smile look effortless. “She really is. Pity I’m not going your way, or I could offer you two a lift.”

“Yeah,” Danny says. He has the collar of his coat turned up and is huddling against the chill of the wind in the open space of the runway, but he’s skeptical as ever. “I think I’ll stick to commercial airlines for the time being. I like those tiny, way overpriced packages of peanuts they sell and the lack of flashbacks to watching Steve bleed out next to me.”

“Right you are,” Harry concedes. “In that case, I think the time has come for me to bid you farewell. Where’s that delightful baby SEAL of yours?”

“He’s not a baby SEAL,” Steve says, because that’s an entirely unfair description, even though it makes Danny grin. “And I think he’s inside somewhere, hunting for food.”

Danny nods. “We’ll tell him you said goodbye. Thanks for all of your help, Harry, really. We couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Oh, it was my pleasure, dear Daniel, as always.”

Danny holds his arms open and Steve feels something inside of him ache a little at the sight. He wants that. He wants to melt into it and hold on and close his eyes for just an instant.

But it’s not directed at him, and shockingly, Harry doesn’t seem to fully appreciate what’s on offer here. “Oh no,” he says, instead of doing the only logical thing and throwing himself into Danny’s arms. “We’ve executed your delightfully American bro hug ritual every time we parted in the past. Let’s give the European way of saying adieu a try, shall we?”

Danny lowers his arms. “And what’s that?”

Half of Steve’s brain is still trying to figure out how anyone could refuse a Danny Williams Full Body Hug (trademark pending), so he almost doesn’t track how weird it is that Harry steps forward and cradles Danny’s face in both of his large, English hands. Then Harry starts leaning in. By that time, even Steve’s tired and possibly permanently a little cracked brain has caught on to what’s happening. 

“Uh,” he says, but most of it is carried away by the wind. No one pays any attention to him.

The confused circles his brain has been stuck in are forgotten, abandoned in favor of blaring alarm bells. It’s like he watches it happen in slow motion: Harry bends down and down and curves towards Danny and the number of inches between their faces plummets even more rapidly than Steve’s blood pressure.

In spite of the inevitability of Harry’s lips eventually touching Danny’s, seeing the reality of it still turns Steve’s world upside down with a sickening lurch. For just a second, he’s legitimately scared his knees will buckle. He’s never had his heart give out on him before, but it feels like it does now, in more than one way.

That first second passes, planet Earth keeps turning the way it always has, and Steve hears nothing except the blood rushing in his ears.

The kiss isn’t even a particularly shocking one, objectively speaking. Danny’s face is partially obscured by Harry’s hands and he’s closed his eyes, but he doesn’t look to be actively participating. He’s certainly not pulling Harry closer – it’s Harry who’s inserting himself into Danny’s space – but he’s not pushing him away, either. It’s just a simple touch of lips to lips, very chaste, in the grand scheme of things. Danny is _letting_ himself be kissed.

It still feels like it lasts a goddamn eternity.

When Harry pulls back and takes his hands away from Danny’s face, Steve pays barely any attention to him. He watches Danny’s eyes blink open, transfixed by the sight.

“Huh,” Danny says, and he _licks his lips_.

Steve wants to- He wants to arrest someone for this. Or shoot something. Or lick Danny’s lips for him.

“I, uh,” Danny is saying, while Steve is having a nervous breakdown. There is an extremely illegal amused slant to the corner of Danny’s mouth now. “I don’t think that that’s how they do it in most of Europe. My in-laws certainly never said goodbye to me like that.”

Harry lifts both eyebrows and widens his eyes a bit for good measure, but he’s polite about it. His surprise is perfectly restrained and British and very fake. The sparkle in his eye is the one thing about his expression that’s genuine. “It is not? By golly, are you telling me I should not have greeted all the remaining Bond actors like this when I was introduced to them at that charity auction last year?”

Danny laughs. “I would have paid good money to see you kiss Sean Connery, babe.”

“I’m sure something could be arranged,” Harry quips back, and he’s joking, but he’s also straight-up _leering_ at this point. Steve feels his own body instinctively brace itself for a fight. Why, he’s not even fully sure – is this a threat? Does he think he’s going to defend Danny from, what, handsome foreign men doing what Steve has always been too much of a chicken to try?

“Earth to Steve.” There’s an unexpected hand on Steve’s arm. He flinches away before he realizes it’s Danny’s. He curses himself out for that, but Danny seems to take it in stride. “Hey, what’s happening in that head of yours up there?”

_Oh, nothing,_ Steve could say, very casually. _I’ve just been completely, painfully, stupidly in love with you since probably a week after I met you and I’ve been carrying that weight around with me all these years, so seeing one of our male friends kiss you with that much confidence broke something open inside of me that I thought I’d locked away for good and now I’m not sure if I want to hit him or shake his hand, but I definitely need to curl up into a ball and cry, so just give me a minute._

He clears his throat. It sounds pretty rough. “I just, uh- I zoned out for bit. Sorry.” Danny studies him and Steve wonders, more than ever, if he measures up. 

“Yeah, I noticed.” Danny’s hand is slower and more careful when he tries to put it on Steve’s shoulder this time, and Steve almost holds his breath to keep from making any movement that could lead Danny to pull away again. “You all good, babe?” 

Usually, it’s a nice surprise to find the endearment tacked onto the end of a sentence. It’s typical Danny, and everything that’s Danny is a good thing, in Steve’s book. This time, after Danny used the same word for Harry not a minute ago, it’s a blow that just serves to remind him that he’s nothing special.

“I’m fine,” he says, like speaking the words with enough persuasive power will make them true. 

It’s not very hard to tell that Danny doesn’t believe him, but he doesn’t call Steve out on it directly. He probably assumes this is a leftover effect from everything that went down with Joe, the SEALs and Greer. Steve goes through a brief moment where he is glad to have that as an excuse, before he’s swamped with guilt over entertaining that train of thought at all. He can’t be _glad_ about Joe’s death. God, what’s wrong with him?

Harry makes a gesture like he’s going to nudge Steve, but he doesn’t actually do it. “How about you then, chap? Which would you prefer, the American or the European style?”

Steve’s eyes flick down to Harry’s lips. He should just go for it. He doesn’t especially want to, but it wouldn’t be too bad, and it’s likely to be the closest he’ll ever get to kissing Danny.

He’s quiet for too long, so Harry makes the decision for him. “We’ll stick to the hug for now, I gather,” he says, like Steve had given him some kind of actual answer.

The embrace, when they wrap their arms around each other, is to Steve an odd mix of disappointment, relief, and Harry’s heavy aftershave assaulting his sense of smell. Steve likes hugs. Harry is an alright hugger, too. The main thing his hugs lack is that they’re not Danny’s, but Steve is all too aware that that’s more of a sign of his own impossible standards than a true shortcoming on Harry’s part.

“Friendly word of advice: go for it,” Harry says, so low Steve wouldn’t have caught it if Harry hadn’t been speaking almost directly into his ear.

His mind reels. He’s heard this before and he’s so weary of it all. “With Catherine?”

“Certainly, if that’s what you think I meant.”

It’s not. Not anymore, at any rate, after an answer like that.

“I’m starting to feel left out, guys,” Danny says, which is when Steve realizes that he’s been pounding Harry’s back for quite a while now. He lets go and steps away. Danny’s hand, which had slipped from his shoulder, immediately finds its way to his back again.

He didn’t expect to feel calmer after hugging someone who’s not Danny, but he does. He’ll admit that his brain might not be at peak capacity right now, but if he’s putting things together correctly, Harry just told him he should make a move on Danny. That means Harry is probably not planning on seducing Danny any more than he has so far, which is… none of Steve’s business, really. 

But good. Very good.

“Always a pleasure to see your faces,” Harry tells them. He winks at Danny, but when Steve looks for Danny’s response – still a little alarmed – Danny just rolls his eyes good-naturedly. Harry grins. “So long, boys.”

They watch Harry turn and ascend the airstairs of his small jet. He gives them a last jaunty wave before the clamshell door folds shut and hides him from sight.

Danny gives Steve’s back a gentle push. “We’d better get out of here so he has space to take off without running us over.”

The odds of that happening are extremely small. They’re to the side of the aircraft, and unless it has some goofy 007-like modifications that allow it to hop sideways in a very impractical manner, Harry would have to taxi forward and back a few times before he would be able to hit them, even if he wanted to. 

Steve doesn’t say that out loud. He knows Danny would turn it into an argument, and usually he loves that, but right now he’s not sure he can fake their normal banter. He’s shaking apart at the seams. So he keeps quiet and lets Danny direct him wherever Danny wants them to go, and they end up in the wind shadow of one of the terminals, where they have a good view of Harry’s jet as it takes off.

Danny waves for a minute, before he stops mid-movement. “This feels stupid. He probably didn’t even see me.”

“Probably not,” Steve admits. The jet is very quickly shrinking, moving towards the horizon.

“You okay?”

Steve peers at the sky. He’s a little afraid of what Danny could find in his eyes. “You already asked me that.”

“After days like these, it bears repeating.”

Steve doesn’t have a good answer to that. He doesn’t want to outright lie to Danny for a second time, but he wants even less to tell the truth and start sobbing. He’s not sure that he would, but he also isn’t sure that he _wouldn’t_ , which is extremely concerning.

Danny comes with a solution – of course he does. He moves, and he uses the hand that was still resting very lightly on Steve’s back to pull Steve closer, wrapping his other arm over Steve’s shoulder. Steve doesn’t need to be told twice. He slides his own arms around Danny in return and relaxes into it, hunching over a bit to even out their height difference and get as much contact as possible through the many layers they’re wearing.

He does his very best not to lean on Danny too much. “What’d I do to deserve this?” It’s not a lot more than a whisper. Part of him is afraid to ask questions.

“You looked like you were about to keel over,” Danny says. He’s speaking very close to the same ear Harry whispered in, but now that it’s Danny’s voice it feels far more right. “I’m just taking preventative measures.”

“Yeah?” Steve breathes in deeply. No cloying aftershave, just Danny. “You gonna catch me if I fall?”

“Always, babe. You know that.”

He turns his head a fraction and burrows his nose in Danny’s shoulder. “I do.”

Steve has no real concept of how long they stand there, wrapped up in each other, with Danny carrying an unequal part of the weight. Steve feels needy and like he’s taking more than he should, but he’s not strong enough to put up any more barriers, even to reign in his own desires. The entire time, Danny is patient and warm and present. His strong arms – not back-slapping, not thumping, just holding him – make it possible that maybe it’s okay that Steve is like this, right now. That he needs this; that he _wants_ it.

It’s Steve who makes the first move to pull back. Danny follows his lead and lets go of him, so that he’s standing completely on his own for the first time in a while, no physical contact between them at all. He already feels less brittle than he has all month. “We should go find Junior.”

Danny gives a nod. “Sure.”

The terminal entrance is not far from them, but once they’re inside, they still need to cross some distance to get to the airport food court, where Junior is most likely to be. As they walk, Steve can feel Danny’s eyes on him. He’s pretty sure he knows what Danny is going to ask, so he spares him the trouble. “I feel a lot better now,” he admits. “Thank you.”

“That’s good. I’m glad.”

There’s clearly more Danny wants to say, but Steve is all out of guesses, so he just waits him out. As expected, Danny speaks up again soon enough. It’s a good thing Steve didn’t assume anything, because he wouldn’t have gotten it right.

“And for the record,” Danny starts, something almost like mischief underlying his careful words, “I’m sympathetic to the emotional hell you’ve been through, but it needs to be said: next time you might want to kiss me, maybe make your move when I’m outright inviting you to pick a base. Or, you know, any of the thousands of other chances you get on a weekly basis – I’m really not picky. Just don’t wait until you almost faint from how hard you’re glaring daggers at one of our friends.”

“I wasn’t-” He finds himself on the cusp of denying everything before he realizes how not only stupid, but ostensibly futile that would be. He focuses in on a tiny bit of it, leaving the rest unaddressed for the time being so he doesn’t fry his brain completely. “I didn’t glare daggers.”

“You’re right, the dagger isn’t your weapon of choice. I guess it’d be more apt to say you were mentally grenading him to pieces.”

“That’s not a word.”

“All words are made up, babe. There are no rules.”

“No rules,” he repeats, thinking that’s a very wild, novel concept. Before he can second-guess himself, he puts it to the test by reaching out for Danny’s hand.

Danny moves his fingers against Steve’s, but only to give himself a better grip. Steve holds on and breathes and revels in the feeling of it. 

He is, somehow, alive. He’s not fine, not by a long shot, but there’s a ‘yet’ at the end of that sentence that wasn’t there just this morning. It’s a promise of better days to come.

Danny’s hand in his is, too.

**Author's Note:**

> You know what I want? A full episode that's literally just hugs. A solid forty minutes of characters hugging, no plot, no murder, who even cares about car chases - give me that fluffy, healing hurt/comfort content. Everyone deserves it, but Steve more than most. Just let him be hugged the way _he_ hugs people.
> 
> Things I should probably have put in a Tumblr post aside: thank you for reading! I always love hearing from you, so please consider leaving a comment if you can. ❤
> 
> I'm on Tumblr as [itwoodbeprefect](https://itwoodbeprefect.tumblr.com), or with my exclusively H50 (and mostly McDanno) sideblog as [five-wow](https://five-wow.tumblr.com).


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